


Life changing

by apathyinreverie



Series: Give me life [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Domestic Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Post-Canon, Power Couple Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Powerful Magnus Bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-04 15:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apathyinreverie/pseuds/apathyinreverie
Summary: In the rather hectic aftermath of Jonathan’s rampage across the world, everyone kind of forgets about the fact that Magnus - in his quest to protect those he loves - had done the impossible. That despite being a warlock Magnus had taken his father's place amongst the Greater Demons, had ever-so-briefly been a true Prince of Hell.And thus, everyone also kind of forgets to ask themselves what Magnus having been the King of Edom might mean in the long-term.





	1. Changes

Magnus and his magic are one.

One being, one entity. Same dreams and wishes and desires.

Magnus is his magic, and his magic is him.

Magic is in his blood, in his every breath, his every thought. It is as much a part of him as anything else that makes him who he is, so much more than just a power he wields, more than an added feature provided by his demon heritage, more than an ability or a skill, more than an extra layer of perception.

He experiences the world _through _his magic, feels and hears and sees and senses everything around him with the forever-warm, ever-present, all-encompassing humming of his magic vibrating just beneath his skin.

It is simply not possible to put everything that his magic is to him into words and even if he could, it’s still quite simply not something anyone who _isn’t_ born with magic could possibly ever understand.

Magic is his soul, his mind, everything that makes him _Magnus_.

Forever and immutably intertwined.

But then. For Alexander, for the man he loves, Magnus had chosen to give that part of himself away, handed his magic to his father, traded a part of his very _self_ away for someone else’s sake.

And his magic went.

Because Magnus loves Alexander, loves him with everything he is, with everything in him, loves him possibly above all else.

And, thus, so does his magic.

Even in the aftermath, Magnus didn’t really regret his choice no matter the pain, the utter desolation he felt at losing a part of himself, would likely do the same thing all over again if it came down to it. If only because the alternative – Alexander having to mourn his parabatai, the possibility of losing Alexander to his grief – is unthinkable.

But Magnus had still lost something then, felt quite literally like he wasn’t whole any longer, wasn’t himself because something that _could_ not be gone was missing.

And he’s heard others compare going without magic to missing a limb or that it would be like a drug or a habit you have to learn to live without.

But that’s not it _at all_. Not even close.

He’d even known beforehand that it would be painful, but he still had been in no way prepared for that gaping, soul-deep chasm of desolate longing opening up within himself as soon as the last wisps of his magic slipped through his fingers, as he handed part of himself over to be wielded by another.

There had been a break, a gap, a tear in his very sense of self, everything around him suddenly seeming foreign, not at all what the world had always felt like to him.

His magic was gone and Magnus hadn’t quite known how to be or who he was anymore.

But it had been a trade sealed in blood and magic and, for a while, his magic had by definition been Asmodeus' to wield, even if it had still been intrinsically _Magnus’_ magic.

Part of a whole but still separate, forever longing to return.

And just like Magnus up on earth, his magic had waited. Waited to once more become whole, waited to return, waited to once more be where it belonged.

And then, another few twists and manipulations later, Asmodeus finally reversed the trade, returned Magnus’ magic. Returned it freely, no conditions attached. At least, none imposed upon Magnus.

They were whole again, _one_ once more.

However.

It hadn’t taken Magnus long at all to realize that his magic was _different_ somehow.

Something about the oh-so-familiar coiling of his magic had changed, just the slightest bit altered, less like an actual transformation and more like it might have ever-so-slightly shifted, adapted to include _more_ somehow. Like being wielded by a Greater Demon had made it adjust, adapt, by circumstance made it assimilate powers that were _by nature_ not intended for Magnus' magic, for a warlock's magic.

Magnus is actually certain that it was that very same shift of his inherent magic which also made triumphing over Asmodeus – _one of the most powerful beings in existence_ – possible at all. Magnus himself may be powerful in his own right - more powerful than most other warlocks alive - but he is well-aware that the Greater Demons are simply a completely _different _kind of powerful.

Still, somehow he had gotten the jump on his father, thrown him into portal limbo - for however long that sort of thing might be able to hold a Greater Demon - and had then even taken his father’s place as ruler of Edom, taking up the mantle of demon lord despite his 'tainted' blood.

And, magic, taking on that position had certainly been an entirely different sort of power rush.

Not so much because of the rather abstract title of a Prince of Hell, but rather the almost tangible, incomprehensible amount of power that Magnus had felt sparking at his fingertips the very instant he assumed that throne, the moment he stepped onto the dais within his father's palace, unhindered by Lilith's attempts to interfere and later on to usurp him.

If ruling over an entire realm of hell always brings that much power, if the title itself always includes that sort of power boost, then it is certainly no wonder the Greater Demons have been fighting over those positions for eons.

Although admittedly, at the time Magnus hadn't much cared about any of that.

In that desolate wasteland of hell, despairing over having lost everything – having given up all that he had fought for, having left behind all that he had gained, all that he ever dreamed of having, the man he loves and their life together – Magnus hadn’t much cared about the added power, not even when he felt his own magic shifting once more, altering, adapting to their new place in the world, changing itself to fit their new role as a Prince of Hell.

Magnus hadn't cared about anything at all beyond being able to keep his position, to keep the rift to earth closed, even if that meant he would forever have to remain a ruler of hell.

He honestly hadn’t expected to ever be able to leave, wouldn’t even have tried, not for as long as his very presence in Edom was also the only thing keeping everything he loves safe up on earth.

But then, Alexander had come for him, had appeared as though following Magnus to Edom had never even been a question, his love absolutely willing to stay in hell with him rather than to even attempt living without him.

In that moment – for the first time since they had known each other – Alexander had made it absolutely clear that if it truly came down to it, he _would_ choose Magnus over everything else.

Just the memory, still makes Magnus’ heart skip a beat.

Because it's all he ever wanted in life. To find someone to love with everything in him, with all that he is, and to have that all-encompassing love and immutable devotion returned by the person he loves.

Magnus’ heart still swells in his chest with utter joy, happiness, exhilaration, _pure adoration_, and so so much love every time he so much as thinks about Alexander coming for him.

The fact that they then actually also somehow managed to return to earth, left Edom behind, letting Magnus shake off the title of Prince of Hell barely days after he had taken over his father’s throne, is almost negligible in his eyes.

His magic still curls blindingly, dangerously, triumphantly within him at the memory of that absolute power rush when Edom had started crumbling in front of them, another Greater Demon dead at their feet, hordes of demons – his father’s creations and Magnus’ subjects at the time – vanishing in the fires that engulfed Edom as they fled back to earth.

Somehow, everything had simply worked out for him.

Which isn’t even mentioning his own wedding and the fact that Magnus is now _married_ to the man he loves, that Alexander is now his _husband_.

Life certainly seems to have decided to turn over a new leaf for him.

Suddenly, Magnus has everything he has ever wanted in life but never quite dared dreaming he could actually have, is still getting used to that very fact.

Sure, even now, his magic hasn't entirely returned to how it had been before Magnus traded it away, still a somewhat altered humming within its coiling tendrils, an increased brightness to its ever-glowing core.

The change is still there, just the slightest shift to now include something _more_.

But he isn’t alarmed.

For one, it's been months now, nothing bad has happened, and he has long-since gotten used to that slight shift in his magic, barely enough for Magnus to still notice it from time to time. And secondly, in the end it is still _his_ magic, always will be.

So, it’s not like this shift within his magic is actually going to affect anything about Magnus himself or his life with the man he loves.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is actually the result of a plot bunny that's been ghosting through my head ever since the end of 3A but which I’ve been avoiding until now because it originally included mpreg and I’m not entirely sure whether I actually want to go down that particular rabbit hole XD
> 
> But after some lovely encouraging words from the wonderful **Shin_Sankai** I decided to just post the premise of the fic for now and see what you guys think about either turning this into a collection of unrelated snippets (all based on the idea that Magnus having so very casually conquered an entire dimension of hell might have had a few more long-lasting side-effects than the series implied) or whether to turn this into an actual fic (which would literally revolve around Magnus getting everything he ever wanted but never thought he could actually have, including things like kids and an immortal husband).
> 
> Would absolutely love some feedback on that :D


	2. Senses

Alec watches the light of the early morning sun coming in through the blinds, drawing soft, golden patterns on the ceiling, feeling warm and relaxed and so incredibly comfortable.

It's still early and Alec only woke about half an hour ago, and he hasn't really moved since.

Because next to him, Magnus is still sleeping, lying halfway on top of him, head on Alec's chest, arm curled over his stomach, warm along his side.

This right here is by far his absolute favorite thing about living together. Getting to wake up next to Magnus every morning without fail.

Even on the days where a ridiculously early meeting or some sort of emergency calls him from their bed before Magnus is anywhere near getting up, he is too light a sleeper to miss Alec moving around, always at least rousing enough to tilt his head for Alec's soft, lingering good-morning kiss before Alec is out the door and Magnus goes right back to sleep for another hour or two.

In all honesty, that soft version of Magnus – when he is still somewhere between sleep and waking, eyes only partially open, sleep-warm and a looking little rumpled, lips soft and wearing the slightest smile, so entirely, _utterly_ unguarded – might just be one of Alec’s favorite things ever.

Admittedly, Alec has a lot of 'favorites' about their life together.

Starting with the fact that he gets to call Magnus his_ husband_.

They've been married for a few months now and Alec _still_ sometimes can’t quite believe it.

Still catches himself marveling at the fact that they are actually _married_ now while he watches Magnus flit through _their_ home, preparing dinner or getting ready for a night out. Still awed at Magnus being truly _his_ now as they make love in _their_ bed, in _their_ home, celebrating their life together. Still sometimes caught off-guard at the thought that Magnus is actually his _husband_, the fact that Alec gets to come home to him every night.

He definitely hasn’t at all gotten used to the fact that he actually managed to find, gain, and _keep_ the one thing he has always dreamed of having, someone to love and to be unconditionally loved by.

Honestly, his life is pretty much perfect.

He has Magnus and they are so very perfectly happy together that it almost seems a little surreal sometimes.

And as an added bonus, so very recently Alec found himself appointed as Inquisitor, one of the most powerful positions in the Clave and honestly quite a bit beyond what he'd ever dared to dream he'd manage in his life, much less before he reached the age of thirty.

A promotion which perfectly coincided with Magnus being offered the newly created position of High Warlock of Alicante to represent and keep up with the recent, rather significant changes of Clave-Downworld relations.

Alec doesn’t know whether the Clave simply realized that neither of them would have agreed to move to Idris without the other one being able to come along, whether the Clave came up with the idea of a High Warlock in Idris so that Alec would take the offered promotion, or whether they made him Inquisitor so that Magnus would agree to become High Warlock, or whether it's really just a coincidence or whether they just saw a chance to kill two birds with one stone.

Either way, they are planning to move to Idris in a couple of days.

Because, _somehow_, Alec not only got everything he has ever wanted in life, but managed to get so much _more_ than he ever imagined he could possibly have.

Actually, ever since their wedding, things aren’t only pretty much perfect but seem to just continue turning out in his favor.

Although, thankfully, life has actually been pretty calm recently.

Which Alec thinks they more than deserve after those ridiculously hectic, constantly-life-or-death months full of drama and life-changing revelations, with the world continually threatening to fall apart, those few almost-apocalypses, the constant race against time. A phase in his life which also perfectly coincided with Clary's appearance in their world.

Seriously, sometimes it feels like the only reason they are still standing at all is the fact that Magnus appeared so very soon after they got involved with Clary's life. Like a sort of compensation, like Magnus was sent to keep the balance, to make up for all the messes Clary was creating.

Alec is well-aware that they might not even have made it through those first couple of weeks after her appearance if they hadn't had Magnus around to help them, to solve their problems, to heal them when needed, to protect them personally, to secure their Institute, to save the world a couple of times along the way.

To save Alec from himself.

It's strange. But when he now thinks back to his life about a year ago, back to the time when he was still living exclusively for his duties, for his family, for his reputation – before Clary showed up and started to make a mess of things, before Magnus appeared to make everything better – Alec doesn't remember being necessarily _unhappy_ as such.

Don't get him wrong, he most certainly wasn't _happy_ either, but he also didn't hate his life or spent his time forlornly dreaming of better days either.

Instead, when he thinks back now, it's like he had been living under a gray, heavy shroud, weighing him down, obscuring his life, making everything harder than it needed to be.

Just a monotone, never-changing, endless procession of missions and training and meetings, never quite good enough, but forever trying to improve himself. His entire life a rather bleakly monochromatic gray before.

Then, Magnus had appeared.

And he had brought all the colors in the world into Alec’s life, every hue imaginable. Along with quite an amount of even more colorful glitter.

He feels a smile spread over his face at that thought, can't help but curl his arm a little tighter around his husband, tilts his head a little to press a light kiss to Magnus' hair.

Magnus just reacts by sighing softly, pressing a little further into his side but not rousing in the slightest and Alec buries his nose in his husband's hair, revels in the scents of sandalwood and cinnamon and something citrusy he can’t quite identify, breathes in the underlying fragrance of sun-warmed skin, old books, and heated metal that is all Magnus.

It smells like home to him.

He closes his eyes, revels in the warmth of Magnus pressed along his side, the softness of the silk sheets around them, the feeling of absolute security of Magnus' wards surrounding them. 

There is nothing quite as reassuring as the feeling of Magnus' wards humming warmly around them.

Although, that is something Alec has only started noticing rather recently. The feeling of Magnus' magic forever surrounding him, not so much the power of it but just the barest sense of its presence.

He isn't entirely sure when exactly he became aware of it, but at some point he just realized that he can suddenly _feel_ Magnus' magic, a fact that - when he told his husband about it - apparently surprised Magnus just as much as it did Alec.

And maybe the awareness has always been there at the back of his mind and he just somehow missed it before, or maybe he only became aware of it due to the contrast of Magnus losing his magic and then getting it back, or maybe it’s because he now lives under Magnus’ wards, or maybe it’s that whole having had warlock magic for a while during his own trip to Edom, or maybe it has something to do with them being married now.

So much stuff happened in such a short amount of time that Alec quite simply can’t be entirely sure.

Point is, there is now this slightest sense of Magnus’ magic, especially the wards.

It's how he first noticed his awareness at all. When he stepped out from beneath the wards' ever-present humming and was left almost feeling a little bereft at their absence.

And ever since, he just can't _not_ notice.

Even now, as they are lying here pressed close together, skin on skin, warmth between them – with Magnus just starting to wake, eyelashes brushing against the skin of his chest as his husband lazily blinks awake, tilts his head for a soft and lazy good-morning kiss and then promptly settles fully back against his side – there is just a sense of security, of uncompromising safety to Magnus’ magic, that Alec simply doesn’t get anywhere else.

He sighs out contently, wraps his arms a little tighter around Magnus who just reacts by pressing a warm and lingering kiss to his chest.

Alec is just so comfortable right now, doesn’t feel like getting up at all, that he is honestly considering the benefit of simply staying right here for at least another couple of hours, if not the rest of the day.

And it’s not like Magnus would ever protest the idea of spending a day just lazing around, always absolutely happy about anything that involves just the two of them spending time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as requested I’ll be turning this into an actual fic but I decided to try something different and still write this snippet-style :) Although, no idea how well that will work out, so I might just go back to my usual writing style at some point XD 
> 
> It was actually quite fun to describe Magnus’ magic from Alec’s POV. Would love to know what you think :D
> 
> And thanks for all your comments and kudos (*^^*)


	3. Inklings

Magnus glances around himself happily, makes sure that everything is in place.

The table out on the balcony looks perfect for a nice, romantic dinner. There is good food, excellent wine, some flowers and decorations, a few candles, and to top it all off the beautiful night view over Alicante.

Everything is ready for the calm, _uninterrupted_, romantic evening he has planned for tonight.

Now, the only thing missing is for his husband to get home from work.

It's just been a couple of weeks since their move to Alicante - and when Magnus says 'move’ he quite literally means ‘move house’, seeing as they simply decided to magically translocate the loft to a pre-arranged spot in Alicante instead of looking for an entirely new place for them to live - and everything has been working out rather well so far with their life in a new city and new jobs.

The only real drawback seems to be the fact that ever since they got here, it feels like they've barely had any time together at all.

They've really been rather ridiculously busy.

Alexander really seems to enjoy his new job, even if it had turned out to be even more stressful than they had anticipated. Mostly because the position of Inquisitor apparently hasn't been filled ever since Imogen Herondale's death, and thus the sheer amount of really rather pressing things-to-get-done-ASAP that has accumulated in the meantime has his husband practically buried in work.

And Magnus' own job isn't much better.

With him being the _first_ High Warlock of Alicante – the first High Warlock in the entire country of Idris – it is up to Magnus not only to establish himself in Alicante but also to make sure that the position itself is recognized within the Downworld as a whole.

Meaning, since taking office he has been spending most of his time with things like setting up lines of communication between Alicante and the different realms of the Downworld, or like unmistakably claiming his new seat on the Warlock Council for any meetings in the Labyrinth, or like paying various Downworld leaders around the world personal visits to make sure no one is feeling left out – or even worse, snubbed – and assure them all individually that Magnus will absolutely be available to them if needed.

He is fully intent on laying all the groundwork he might need in the future as quickly as he can.

Because his position might not be all that significant yet – simply due to its newness – but he isn’t naïve enough to think it will stay that way. This _is_ Alicante, making Magnus the High Warlock of the Shadowhunter city, and thus putting him into a rather unique position.

He is fully anticipating the numerous requests and complaints that will come flooding in as soon as his position is established, when Downworlders anywhere in the world start making use of the fact that they _finally_ have a spokesperson within Idris.

Thankfully, he already knows most of the other current High Warlocks from his time as the High Warlock of Brooklyn, meaning with most of them he just has to make a phone call, talk to them for a while, and answer any question they might have about what he intends to do with his new position.

But regrettably, for everyone else a personal visit is required.

Which has Magnus skipping around the globe to talk to the High Warlocks he doesn’t know personally, numerous visits to the Labyrinth to make sure he has the other warlocks on board, contacting vampire clan leaders and werewolf alphas all around the world, spending literal _days_ at the Unseelie Court trying to soothe the King's general ire after suddenly having found himself the ruler of all faeries instead of just the Unseelies due to the death of the Seelie Queen.

Seriously, taking over as High Warlock of Brooklyn had been a cakewalk in comparison.

He can only be thankful that having held that office for several decades also means Magnus already knows exactly what being a High Warlock entails, who to talk to in order to establish his position not just formally or on the Shadowhunter side of things, but also in a way that will actually have Downworlders come to him if they need him for something.

Because him being the High Warlock of Alicante not only means that any warlocks who spend any amount of time in his city now fall under his jurisdiction, but it also makes him the _only_ Downworld leader in all of Idris. Meaning any faeries, werewolves, and vampires – or anyone else even remotely Downworld-related – who decide to visit Idris, apparently seem to think it prudent to make the Lightwood-Bane residence their first stop in Alicante.

Turns out, Magnus might have been doing too good of a job of making Downworlders around the world feel like his door is always open to them. He is already rather tired of giving various Downworlders 'the tour' of Alicante.

And all of that is without even mentioning everything he is doing on the Shadowhunter side of things.

Because not only is he now the go-to warlock for all magical requests within Idris, including regular requests for portals, tracking spells, and potions, ranging all the way to being woken in the middle of the night to help heal various life-threatening injuries. It’s one of the definite drawbacks of living in a country of warrior-types all of whom seem to have a rather annoying tendency for self-sacrifice and clearly no survival instincts to speak of.

Not like Magnus can actually complain out loud, seeing as his own husband is very much one of them and even seems to be leading the entire lot by example.

However, Magnus being the High Warlock of _Alicante_, the Shadowhunter city, also means that Shadowhunters around the world now apparently think of Magnus as 'their' High Warlock.

Which tends to result in a whole lot of ruffled feathers whenever the Shadowhunters from any given Institute decide to call Magnus for his services instead of trying their luck with the resident High Warlock.

But it's not like Magnus is going to refuse them.

So, on top of everything else he has been spending quite a bit of time at various Shadowhunter Institutes all around the world, especially those that Jonathan had visited during his rampage, recasting wards, adding security features, and even helping with rebuilding in some cases.

His schedule has admittedly been a little insane.

And in spite of that fact, his magical reserves still haven't given so much as a twinge.

It’s recently started to give him pause, honestly a little perplexed that – after several weeks of this rather insane skipping around the world to wherever he is needed, portaling to and fro between different realms, casting wards and lending power, all of which should have been rather draining in and of itself – he still isn't running low on magic. Not even in the slightest.

The only time he felt any sort of real drain on his powers, was when he had recast the wards protecting the whole of Alicante.

After the demon invasion and Jonathan having somehow deactivated the spires preventing demons from ever entering Alicante, the wards sadly hadn't just reestablished themselves even after the rift to Edom had been closed, the power of the angel-given spires apparently drained entirely.

So, at the Clave's request Magnus had agreed to check the spires, to try and figure out whether they could be reactivated.

He had hoped he might be able to jolt them back into activity by feeding them some of his magic or – if that failed – he might have to individually recharge the ward pillars one after the other, in the hopes the wards would be able to reestablish themselves once they had enough magic to feed off.

Either way, Magnus had honestly expected to be stuck with several days of rituals and chanting and constant magical exhaustion in order to gather sufficient power, had already had a list of other warlocks to ask for help with the recharging in his head.

He most certainly _hadn’t_ expected the sheer incredible amount of power that had immediately rushed through him, pouring from his fingertips as soon as he touched his magic to the ancient protective structure, flowing into the pillar in front of him and instantly spreading onwards to the other apparently linked ward stones, the wards immediately humming to life around the city once more.

Yeah, Magnus most certainly hadn’t expected to have anywhere _near_ enough magic for that.

Sure, he had barely been able to stay upright afterwards, and it had actually taken him another couple of trips in the dead of night to _fully_ recharge the ward stones, with Alexander the only witness, the only one by his side every time.

And, of course, he had told everyone else that the spires had only needed a slight magical jolt for them to reactivate on their own, seeing as he has absolutely no interest in _anyone_ realizing or considering the implications of Magnus apparently having enough power to recast wards that had originally been bestowed upon the city by one of the _archangels_ themselves.

Yeah, no.

Thankfully, that had been right after the invasion, right after their return from Edom, right after the absolute mess left behind by Jonathan's rampage around the world, so everyone had been too busy with the cleanup to give too much attention to the particulars, simply grateful the wards had been reactivated at all.

_Thank magic. _

And Magnus knows this power boost has something to do with those changes he has felt within his magic ever since having it returned by his father, knows his brief collaboration with Asmodeus certainly helped, not to even mention actually triumphing over a Greater Demon and then even taking over as King of Edom.

But there is just no way he is ever mentioning that it is in fact his own magic, filtered through and supported by the spires, which is currently forming the wards around the entire city of Alicante. Not to anyone.

Of course, Alexander knows. But his husband absolutely agrees that the recent increase of Magnus’ magic might be best kept between just the two of them.

There are already enough rumors running wild in the Downworld about the two of them without giving people even more things to talk about, thank you very much.

Because Magnus has heard the whispers, heard the murmured conversations in various parts of the Shadowworld.

Whispers about Magnus, his triumph over Asmodeus and his subsequent brief stint as a ruler of hell just to protect those he loves. Whispers about Alexander, his nephilim husband, and his instant decision to simply follow Magnus to Edom, unbothered - and apparently _unhindered_ \- by the fact that nephilim cannot actually survive in hell. Whispers about them destroying an entire realm of hell together, leaving the throne behind, just so they could return to their comparatively ordinary lives here back on earth.

No matter where Magnus goes in the Downworld, there are murmurs of reverence and respect, mixed with a certain amount of fear and apprehension. But most importantly, there is also _hope_ in those whispers.

Hope that with everything that has happened things might finally be changing. Hope sparked by the very clear shift of balance in the Shadowworld. Hope that the Clave might _finally_ be willing to reconsider their rather extremist views, might shift away from condemning entire species just on principle.

And Magnus is right there with them.

It's that same hope which made him take the job as High Warlock of a Shadowhunter city in the first place.

Although to be honest, he had actually expected things to be much harder in the beginning, had expected to be faced with far more opposition to any changes he might want to introduce within Alicante.

Then again, he and Alexander actually make quite an excellent team for pushing through various changes, able to gather support from very different sides of the aisle and unite them all behind themselves.

Magnus can’t help but smile at that thought and how perfectly this new chapter of their life seems to be working out.

Now, if only this new life of theirs would allow for a little more time for just the two of them to spend together.

It really feels like ages since they last managed to spend an entire evening together, just with the two of them, no interruptions from work or from friends or family deciding to invite themselves along.

Which brings him back to the dinner Magnus prepared for tonight.

Alexander mentioned yesterday that things have been clearing up a little for him, so he might be home at a generally decent time tonight.

And thus, Magnus decided they are going to have a romantic evening all to themselves.

He prepared dinner - as in, he made a quick trip to Spain and returned with a wide selection of excellent tapas, the sort of food that doesn't suffer from sitting around for an undetermined amount of time until Alexander gets home, now artfully arranged on the table - and he fully intends to have a nice, romantic dinner with his husband out on the balcony.

And once they are done with the food, Magnus is already looking forward to taking things to the bedroom. He fully intends to make the most of tonight.

A noise from the entrance hall makes him look up.

And Magnus can’t help but smile at the by-now-familiar sounds of Alexander getting home, opening and closing the door, the clinking of keys as they are set into the bowl by the door, the thump of his briefcase being set down, throwing his coat over some random piece of furniture.

And then promptly ambling further inside on his search for his husband.

"Magnus?"

"Over here, love," he calls back.

Seconds later, Alexander appears from the entrance hall, spots him and immediately makes his way over to where Magnus is leaning against the doorjamb to the balcony. He reaches up as soon as he is close enough, hand curving around Magnus' jaw to pull him in for a lingering kiss hello.

Magnus breathes out, lets his eyes slip close, revels in the warmth and the domesticity of it all.

Finally, Alexander withdraws a little, leaning their foreheads together for a couple of seconds before pulling away a little further, still barely enough so they can look into each other's eyes.

“Hi,” he greets softly.

And Magnus is absolutely helpless against the rather sappy smile spreading over his face at that. "Hi, yourself," he returns just as softly, reaches up to cradle the side of Alexander's face, thumb running along his husband's cheekbone. "How was your day?"

"Stressful," Alexander shrugs, giving a slight sigh. “So, just the usual.”

Magnus tilts his head. "Stressful as in 'busy', or stressful as in 'having to fight off yet another near-apocalypse'?"

"Oh, I almost _wish_ my day had been that exciting," Alexander sighs, humor glinting in his eyes. Then, a slightly impish smile tilts his lips. "Although, if there _had_ been any sort of apocalypse, you'd already know about it anyway. It's not as if I'd ever even try to save the world without you right there beside me."

"Good thing, too,” Magnus nods severely. “It would be such a _waste_ of an opportunity for us to spend some quality time together."

Alexander quirks a grin, "True. We could have called it a date and gone out for drinks after."

"Oh yes, just like old times. Saving the world between dinner and cocktails," Magnus knows his grin must be bordering on the ridiculous now. But that also reminds him. "And on that note...," he turns slightly to gesture at the setup behind him, watches Alexander raise an eyebrow as soon as he spots the table, the candles and the food. "I feel it’s been too long since we had a night to ourselves. I thought we might be due another date," Magnus offers with a smile.

There is a slight pause.

And then, Alexander just smiles, lifts the arm currently not curled around Magnus to show off the wine bottle he is apparently holding in his other hand but which Magnus hadn't actually noticed until now, and says, "I was thinking along similar lines."

Magnus blinks, and then smiles openly. “It seems, great minds do indeed think alike,” he says, unbothered by the cliché of that line. He presses a quick kiss to his husband’s lips – while surreptitiously swirling his fingers, letting his magic banish the bottle of champagne he had already set out for their meal to god-knows-where – before he eagerly reaches out to take the bottle of red wine Alexander is holding out to him.

Only to promptly raise an eyebrow in delighted surprise as soon as he spots the familiar French label. "Oh, I love this vintage."

"I know. You told me before," Alexander shrugs in that endearing, almost sheepish way of his that he only ever gets when he feels a little flustered. "I had a meeting at the Paris Institute yesterday. So, I thought we could have it tonight with dinner."

Magnus feels his smile widen, absolutely charmed by his husband and his almost-explanation, so very endeared by Alexander acting as though the mere fact that he had business in the country of France naturally also means he had to go out into the city and pick up a bottle of one of Magnus' favorite red wines to bring home.

Never mind the fact that this is not the sort of vintage you just find in a random supermarket, so Alexander likely had to at least ask the Paris Shadowhunters for directions to the next wine store.

But, of course, Alexander would never actually mention any of the trouble he likely had to go through to find this bottle.

_Magic, do I love this man._

Magnus can’t do anything but step in just that little bit closer to his husband, curls his free arm around his waist, pulls him in a little further. "Thank you, darling," he murmurs softly, before he leans in for another kiss, this one lingering and warm and containing all that love and all-consuming adoration he feels for his husband.

Some days, Magnus catches himself honestly thinking that his life truly couldn't get any better, that he couldn't be more in love, couldn't possibly be happier than he already is, that his life is absolute perfection and that there is no possible way for it to get any better.

And then, Alexander does something like this. Brings home a bottle of wine Magnus is fairly sure he might have mentioned all of once to be one of his absolute favorite vintages to come out of France in the past century.

Sure, it’s just something small, never anything major, nothing over-the-top, nothing that is even _meant_ as a gesture of any kind. But all the better to show Magnus how absolutely Alexander returns his constant and so-happily-exclusive focus on him, how most days it's difficult to even think of anything aside from his husband.

And every time, Magnus can feel himself falling somehow, _incomprehensibly_, just that little bit deeper in love. Entirely regardless of the fact that Alexander already _has_ all of him, that Magnus is already wholly and completely his.

That – immortal lifespan or not – Magnus is quite likely_ always_ _and irrevocably_ going to be Alexander's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Hope you liked my take on Magnus settling in as the High Warlock which then somehow took a rather sappy turn at the end. Would love to know what you think :D
> 
> Also, thanks for all the feedback and I now decided to turn this into a series (no idea why this option didn't occur to me before XD). It will still all be the same 'verse, still the same story, and have one continuous timeline, but the series format should make tagging and rating of individual snippets quite a bit easier. And on that note, the next part will be smut. Just, fair warning and all that :3
> 
> Thanks so much for all your comments and kudos (*^^*)


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